


hello, can you hear me?

by problematiquefave



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27547048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematiquefave/pseuds/problematiquefave
Summary: A lot had changed between Gawain dying and returning.
Relationships: Gawain | The Green Knight & The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30
Collections: Netflix's Cursed - Monthly prompts picked by a cursed bot!





	hello, can you hear me?

When Gawain returns to the fey, things have changed more than he has. And he’s come back from the dead.

There’s Nimue – who claims she _didn’t_ die, but who carries herself with a newfound solemness. Sometimes, he struggles to reconcile the serious woman he sees before him with the girl from his youth. Her life has never been easy, but she used to know how to have fun. Now he’s not sure, but there are others handling it better than he can. Pym and Arthur, primarily.

Arthur is different too. He’s become the knight he always wanted to be. A loyal servant at Nimue’s side, a fierce fighter in the field, and a leader in his own right. Gawain is reluctant to admit it, but he respects the new Arthur.

There are new presences as well. The Viking traitors, of course. Their queen – the Red Spear. (“Her name is Guinevere,” Pym had whispered to him, “but you probably shouldn’t call her that.”) He lacks the will or knowledge to deal with the humans, so he leaves them to others. Which leaves Gawain with _him_.

The sight of the Monk – Lancelot, as Squirrel insists – had stopped him dead in his tracks. “Squirrel vouches for him,” Arthur had said. “Nimue says we need all the help we can get, and the Red Spear agrees. But he’ll leave you alone if you don’t bother him.”

The last tidbit is seemingly the way the fey and Vikings handled him. Lancelot lurks like a silent shadow, his heavy gaze on your back the worst part of his presence. Sometimes, Gawain thinks that gaze lingers on him longer and more frequently than others. At dinner, around the fire, while scouting… Gawain will look back, and there will be his _cold,_ blue gaze.

Should he say something?

Should he do something?

Those questions plague him, but Gawain hesitates – Arthur’s advice ringing in his eyes. _Leave him alone_. It seems wisest.

But then, he has no choice. Crammed into a crevice of a cliff face, clenching his jaw so he doesn’t breathe too loudly, cupping his hands around the arrow sticking out of Lancelot’s shoulder. The distant shouts of Paladins fill their hiding spot. “Pray for us,” Gawain whispers. His head scrapes against the wall as he nods. He says no more until he can’t hear the Paladins.

“Are you awake?” he asks. Lancelot’s eyes open. “Can you move?”

Lancelot hesitates. The seconds feel like ages. “…I don’t know.”

“We can’t stay here,” he mutters. He looks at the arrow. “I’m going to go out there – see if I can find our horses or, if not, see if there’s a place to build a signal to the others. They’ll be looking. And I’ll see if there’s anything I can find for this, but you need to press here like I am. Though, you knew that I’m sure.”

Lancelot’s fingers graze his. “I will.”

“Good, good.” Gawain nods, more to himself than to Lancelot. “Anything before I go?”

A beat of silence passes, and then another. Gawain opens his mouth to repeat himself, but Lancelot speaks first.

“Forgive me.”

His brow furrows. “Forgive you?”

Lancelot’s gaze is focused not on his eyes, but where his neck meets his chest. “For not saving you. At the camp,” he adds.

Gawain swallows. The memory of burnt skin – _his_ burnt skin – and Brother Salt’s laugh push their way to the front of his mind. He pushes back. The memories of Squirrel alive and well, of being told who saved him, of screaming when Lancelot took the arrow that should’ve found a home in his back replace those two. He breathes deep.

“I forgive you.” Lancelot’s eyes slide shut again. Something acrid bubbles in Gawain’s chest, a little like fear. “But I’m not the only one who needs to forgive you, so you better not die here.”

Gawain almost doesn’t catch the twitch of his lips. “I won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **prompt:** forgive
> 
> thanks for reading! comments and kudos are always appreciated.


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